Snippet #1703977

Katja eyed the device in her hands curiously. It was about the size of her palm, and looked lifeless save for a dull red light on one side which provided no noticeable illumination. She held it to her ear for the hundredth time, and found it emanating an ambient hum. A grimace formed on her face. The humming was so quiet, even in the most isolated of tunnels one would have to know it was there to notice it, but that did not assuage her fears. The rest of the team would doubtlessly include seasoned veterans, men whose senses are accustomed to picking up the slightest changes in the norm. If the tracking device was discovered, Katja would have a hell of a time explaining herself. The Communist troops were under orders to stay at least 6 hours behind her, and no more more than 12. When the signal was off for longer than 10 minutes, they had orders to move to the last known position. All Katja had to do was turn off the signal when the group reached their destination.

"Govno..."

She stood and shoved the device down to the bottom of the pack. She listened intensely, but heard nothing. Satisfied, she began to make her way to the bar. Polis reminded her of her home, Chernekov Station. It was big, dark, and crowded, and the people never looked like the sort you'd want to restart the human race with. She had to keep an eye on her pockets as she waded through the crowd, because pickpockets usually picked her as a target. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that she wasn't a giant. Sure enough, a brave young urchin tried removing a refill tank that hung from Katja's side. Her hand smacked the child's so fast, not even a fly could have seen it coming. The girl looked at her hand, now mostly red, and scowled. Katja took off her helmet and offered a kind smile.

"S-sorry miss... I thought.." the girl's meek voice trickled out as she looked away from Katja's face.

"No. You didn't think. If you had thought, we wouldn't be here." She stood up and began walking away, her helmet under her arm. "No one ever thinks."

Contrasting herself, Katja thought quite a deal during the rest of her walk. She thought about her made up history in case anyone bothered to ask, which she thought was unlikely. A 'Stalker just back from the surface with communist ideals and a good shot' was all she'd come up with by the time she arrived at her destination. Across from the bar entrance, three figures were seated, each absorbed in their own affairs. All of them had the mercenary air about them, so Katja's tension eased a bit. Guarding the door was a mountain of a man, easily a foot and a half taller than her and wider than her by two. He was armed to the teeth, literally, and he stood so stoic, Katja could have mistaken him for a statue. She didn't bother speaking to the man, as he'd clearly already refused the others, at least for now. Instead, she nodded as she passed him, received his nod, and turned to get a closer look. The man closest to her looked in his forties. Katja would bed the entire job's pay that he'd either be the first to die, or the last, depending on how he spent his years. Next to him, was a young woman that looked to be about her own age. She looked able, but then again, so did everyone else. When she saw the woman from a distance, she was hoping that she wouldn't be the shortest anymore, but from the looks of this woman's legs, she still would be. Last was a large man who had apparently fallen asleep. If the others hadn't been around, he'd already be dead and Katja would be making off with his things. A pity.

She sighed and sat down between the sleeping man and the older one and rested her head against the wall behind her.